Yay! New Year! And I have to choose between Ezio and jumping out of haystacks to murder people now and then or else Dishonoured and murdering people in other ways. Last week I polished off a handful of short stories that I can’t talk about yet and started the opening chapters of an SF project that I’ll explain once there’s a signed contract. Right now I’m in the middle of an SAS-supported drug bust going down in a skating rink. Bit different to writing dragons.

This week I’m offering the Gollancz hardback Inside the HBO Game of Thrones. Usual deal – comment on this post before January 5th and I’ll randomly select a lucky victim for a free copy of the book. Valid entries must contain a vaguely preposterous proposed New Year’s Resolution for either a well-known fantasy author or character (like for me to deliver a manuscript in which no major characters die and everyone lives happily ever after or for Cersei Lannister to retire to a nunnery and take up knitting) .

Although, though no one has yet complained about how long it takes me to get to the post office and post things, it can take a while and if you live abroad then it can take even longer. Sorry about that, but they do get there eventually. Well, so far. Previous winners – I’m afraid I’m a bit behind with the posting, but they’ll go out some time this week.

My dad is, was and always has been, for me, the definition of how to live a good life. My opinion is probably biased. Fact is, I didn’t know him at all for the first half of his life and now I have children of my own, I can be damn sure that the father they know isn’t the same person I was before they were born. That person apparently skied off a cliff and floated down a mountainside with a parachute. This person barely remembers. I’m told it happened. I dimly, if pushed, remember that it probably did and can dredge up a hazy recollection of some floundering in the snow beforehand. That’s not dementia, that’s just a life stuffed full of, well, stuff and leaking badly at the edges. Pretty much like anyone in their middle years, I suppose, although I don’t know. Anyway, point being that my kids will never know I did this because they weren’t there and I barely remember myself. I was a different person then and frankly their existence had a lot to do with the change. I don’t claim either me was better than the other, only that the person my children remember when they grow up won’t be the person I was before they were born. There are whole tranches of me that they’ll never see or know and so I have to suppose that the same is true of my own parents. Sometimes I wonder who they were before I came along and then my brother and we quietly pinned them to the wheel of raising a family.

With my dad, I’ll never know. He doesn’t remember any more and it was always shrouded in mystery even when I was little. He was a chemist and it was often something to do with explosives. For three years before I was born, he was assigned to the British embassy in Washington as a scientific adviser of some sort. It was all a bit Official Secrets Act and not something to be talked about. It all sounds desperately interesting and if a younger me had known about all this then younger me would have hounded him mercilessly to find out all about it. But younger me didn’t. What I do know, because I remember, is that he was sharper, smarter and kinder than I’ll ever be. He taught me chess and quantum physics, and there was always a quiet gleeful joy to growing up in a house filled with books on how to make things explode. He had a quiet strength and willingly gave himself up for the rest of us, as I suppose many parents do. It was one of those solid lives that no one ever remarks upon and has no apparent significance in the greater scheme of things and yet form, in the sum of them, the foundation on which civilisation stands. I can guess and I can imagine who he was before I was old enough to see and measure it for myself, but I can never know. Rather like skiing off a mountainside, perhaps the true story is rather less glorious than the imagined one, but that’s OK. I’ll stick with the imagined one on both counts.

I noticed, years ago, that he was losing that sharpness. Chess wasn’t any fun any more, and then pointless to even try. But he was still there, still my dad. It seemed as though he was simply happy to sit back and rest on his mental laurels, content with what he’d done with his life and pretty happy with the way most of it had turned out and pleased not to have anyone make him think too hard any more because thanks but he was done with that. I kind of quietly said goodbye to him then, told him what I thought of him, how great he’d been, how I’d always looked up to him, how he was the quiet role model and hero of my life. Here and now I’m glad I did that back when I had the chance to see him appreciate it. One of the few unequivocally smart and good things I ever did, for both of us.

Last year he started losing his memory. Badly. Not Altzheimers but some other form of dementia that might as well be. In hindsight I wonder whether the first symptoms of this was what I was seeing, years and years ago, but it doesn’t really make a difference one way or the other. It could be worse. He doesn’t really understand what’s happening to him and seems largely happy enough. I know there are people with Altzheimers who are exquisitely aware of their own fading and live in near-constant terror at their own deconstruction. I can only try to imagine what that must be like. Blissful ignorance seems so much better.

A couple of days ago we picked some vastly overripe tomatoes together. Managing that much was an achievement and I felt a little proud that we’d actually done something, and done it together. Sorting the moldy ones from the rest was a challenge too far, but that didn’t really matter. At the rate things are going, he probably won’t remember my name six months from now.

Losing those we love is inevitable. I’ve had death and I’ve had depression come sit very close by. But fuck you, dementia. In many ways I like you least of all.

Yay! Christmas! And an Assassin’s Creed game I haven’t played yet. Back to Ezio and jumping out of haystacks to murder people now and then and all is right with the world. ‘Tis otherwise the season for putting together proposals for new projects for the new year, which is also kinda fun until the real work comes sliding back through the door.

Another something a bit different this week. An audio-book of Joe Hill’s 20th Century Ghosts. This is volume one, suggesting that there’s a volume two, at least, that I don’t have to offer. Stories on the CDs are: 20th Century Ghost, Pop Art, You Will Hear the Locust Sing, Abraham’s Boy and Better Than Home. The stories are unabridged.

Usual deal – comment on this post before December 29th and I’ll randomly select a lucky victim for a free copy of the book. No challenge this week – it’s Christmas – though I did enjoy some of last week’s whacky cover poses. Although, though no one has yet complained about how long it takes me to get to the post office and post things, it can take a while and if you live abroad then it can take even longer. Sorry about that, but they do get there eventually. Well, so far. Previous winners – I’m afraid I’m a bit behind with the posting, but they’ll go out some time this week.

I’ve noted in previous posts that I’ve spent some of the last few months working on a new and ultra-secret project; now, finally, with the ink dried and all three manuscripts off on their way to the copy-edit, I can finally reveal my next foray into into fantasy literature and the pseudonym under which I’ll be working:

Skone

A new adventure in Heroic Fantasy by Jack D’Awe

Calling upon the ghosts of heroes past such as Conan, Druss and The Grey Mouser, mixed with the raisins of contemporary grit, Skone will satisfy the appetite of all fantasy lovers longing for a return to the simple bread-and-jam values of heroic fantasy.

Summer 2013: THE CHRONICLES OF SKONE VOLUME ONE: THE GIRDLE OF DARKNESS

For years, Skone fought in the armies of King Dubius the Great [1]. When the war was done, the great axe-wielding warrior settled in the lands he conquered for his king, starting a family and plying his trade as a baker. BUT NOW a new enemy has arisen! The hordes of the Waffeln are marching behind the unstoppable standard of the unholy Sword of Kake. Reluctant to return to his old ways, Skone stays at home and bakes, but destiny is not prepared to leave him alone. An old friend seeks shelter and is pursued by hunters. When Skone skewers a Waffeln soldier through the eye with a stale baguette, he knows he cannot refuse his calling.

The king’s army is broken, but under the banner of the king’s son, Prince Cniva [2], Skone leads an expedition to a far-off land, seeking the fable Girdle of Darkness, the only power that can stand against the relentless force of Kake.

In the final confrontation, Skone will face his greatest challenge. Can Skone defeat the Waffeln? Can the Girdle of Darkness really contain so much Kake? And coming in later in 2013. . .

Autumn 2013: THE CHRONICLES OF SKONE VOLUME TWO: THE SCALES OF WRATH
Winter 2013: THE CHRONICLES OF SKONE VOLUME THREE: THE LAST CUPCAKE

[1] That’s a good visigoth name, I’ll have you know.
[2] Another good visigoth name :-p

Well I’ve finished The Witcher II and I’ve delivered my ghostwriting project and now the world seems empty and lonely as I come to the crushing realisation that I haven’t got any un-played games on my shelf. Fortunately it’s coming up to Christmas, so anyone who wants to send a copy of Assassin’s Creed III wandering by, you could make an author very happy…

Something a bit different this week. Inspired by the general sentiments derived from going out and doing any sort of Christmas Shopping, I was going to give away a copy of The Killer, but recent news has persuaded me otherwise. So instead I have a nice first edition hardcover of Elves: Rise of the TaiGethen by the extremely talented James Barclay.

Usual deal – comment on this post before December 22th and I’ll randomly select a lucky victim for a free copy of the book. However, it occurs to me, looking at the cover, that I’ve seen this pose before…

Pretty similar, right? Now, for your own amusement (or more mine, vicariously), try and emulate one of these poses and see what happens. At least the elf has (I think) his sword the right way round. Anyway, it’s clear that fantasy swordsmen are extremely limber and well-balanced folk, and your challenge, if you choose to accept it and for an exciting bonus goody[1], is to point out any other fantasy covers in which swordsmen adopt somewhat unlikely postures. Or swordswomen, for that matter, but let’s not get into the whole inappropriate-clothes-for-fighting otherwise we’ll be here all day.

Or alternatively wave and say hi.

Although, though no one has yet complained about how long it takes me to get to the post office and post things, it can take a while and if you live abroad then it can take even longer. Sorry about that, but they do get there eventually. Well, so far.

Other news is taking a long time to be releasable. These week I shall be working on some freebie short stories for something about which I cannot speak and a proposal for something else about which I cannot speak. There might be some news about some SciFi soon though.

The Hobbit. So this isn’t so much a review as a series of observations which I’ll try to make as non-spoilery as possible but quietly assume you’ve read the book. Purists beware: your source material has been messed with quite considerably although this isn’t necessarily all a bad thing.

The Dwarves: The dwarves come across as something between a gang of Klingons and a bunch of children. Despite all coming from one place originally, they have accents that cover a wide chunk of Europe. They have a similarly absurd range of beards and prosthetics and some of their horses have been to the same rug-manufacturer that George Lucas used for Chewbacca. Despite all this, they worked perfectly well for me. They fit my memory of the book well enough and so does the humour. What I don’t remember is the apparent fact that the dwarves are all 20th level fighters under AD&D rules (20d6 maximum damage irrespective of distance fallen) and also made of rubber and Jell-O and can thus can be dropped from pretty much any damn height you like over and over again without ever picking up any kind of injury. There’s a bit where they find themselves trapped at the edge of a cliff and by then I was thinking: just jump, for pity’s sake. It’s only a mile straight down. You’ll be OK…

Length: I’ve heard it said the movie is too long and they take too long to get out of the Shire. It did feel too long but not for that reason. There’s too much pointless fighting in the second half. Which leads on to…

The White Orc: I get, I think, why this was added. It gives Thorin back-story some of which I think is true to the book and I’m guessing the white orc will become the focal bad-guy for when we eventually get to the Battle of the Five Armies. Doubtless there will be a climactic fight with Thorin that tips the battle and wins the day (I am quietly rolling my eyes). I understand the need to give that enemy a face and thus bring him in in the first movie, but he could have been a) much better, and b) much less present. One encounter with orcs and a back-at-orc-HQ scene would have been enough. Also, since when did orcs live for bloody ages too? And isn’t he a bit Voldemort?

Radegast and Saruman: The other extra material worked for me, even Radegast and his absurd transport system. Incredibly twee, yes, but it felt a part of the world (which is incredibly twee in place), though I haven’t read the relevant source material to see how its accuracy stands up. Radegast and the changes to what happens in Rivendell seemed to me to be about making the six movies into a coherent whole. Not terribly necessary, perhaps, given the first three movies are done and everyone in the world and space has seen them, but the OCD-driven story-teller in me would have done the same.

The Hobbit himself: Grumble. There are a couple of significant scenes (escaping the trolls and escaping the goblin king) where the the events from the book as I remember them are changed in a way that lessens Bilbo’s contribution. Yes, it’s more cinematic for Gandalf to show up and do his GAAANDAAALFFF!!! thing but it takes away from the Hobbit himself. Most of all, these changes felt unnecessary. I found the movie to be largely exquisitely gorgeous and I don’t think it needs nearly as many ‘big moments’ as it thinks it does. As a consequence, in order to big-up his part in the company, Bilbo does something at the end which seems a unlikely, especially given that none of the battle-hardened dwarves do it first. Shame about that.

There’s a lot more humour than in The Lord of the Rings and it verges on slapstick. Mostly it worked for me. Mostly. Gollum is in the movie for ten minutes maybe and totally steals it. A good half hour of material was, I suspect, sneakily inserted by the New Zealand Tourist Board. I’d have been very happy to have had more of that and fewer CGI wargs. The whole thing was lovely to watch (in 2D at 24 frames/second anyway) – shame about the unnecessary added fighting and GAAANDAAALFF!!! moments.

Dear frustrated US readers who keep asking where they can get hold of the thief-taker books over on that side of the Atlantic. Look, frankly I share your pain. You’d have thought as the author I’d be the one person most likely to know. Well up to a point I do – you can get the first two from Amazon if you don’t mind getting the kindle edition. Amazon lists what appears to be a paperback US edition of The Warlock’s Shadow due to come out in June next year. Why the second one of three is coming out but not the first, I have no idea. I can tell you the reasons for all the delay and uncertainty: no US publisher wants to take it on. Allegedly my UK publisher has now given up and is distributing to the US via Trafalgar Books who do this sort of thing all the time. Can I find them there? No. If anyone out there has any kind of answer, do please share it so I can share it in turn. I realise there aren’t that many of you out there who care, but if you get as far as reading this, sorry: I really wish I could be more help.

Yours,

Frustrated author.

Post-Script. It’s been pointed out below that you can order copies of the UK editions for anywhere in the world from The Book Depository. Shipping is free (or included in the price anyway) to most countries.

*Still* playing The Witcher II, so I *still* might see if I can’t get another copy of the game to give away, and I have my eye on another rather nice goody too, but more on that if I manage to get hold of it. In the meantime, an acknowledgement that there are only something like 27346724 shopping days left until Christmas 2156, here’s a bit of Christmas silliness from the ridiculously talented Adam Roberts.

Usual deal – comment on this post before December 15th and I’ll randomly select a lucky victim for a free copy of the book. The right bard name was Dandelion and that would have earned you an Angry Dragons mug, that would [1]. Yeah, but you’re all crying now… Anyway, no challenge this week, just wave and say hi.

Although, though no one has yet complained about how long it takes me to get to the post office and post things, it can take a while and if you live abroad then it can take even longer. Sorry about that, but they do get there eventually. Well, so far.

Still playing The Witcher II, so I might see if I can’t get another copy of the game to give away. However, this week’s offer is the Name of the Wind by New York Times Bestseller Pat Rothfuss. This is the Gollancz-50 yellow hardback edition with an introduction by yours truly. If you haven’t read it, you should know that the writing is simply gorgeous.

Usual deal – comment on this post before December 8th and I’ll randomly select a lucky victim for a free copy of the book.Now I always figured that The Name of the Wind (and probably the rest of the series) was secretly the back-story for a high-level AD&D bard character that Pat has stashed away somewhere, so the challenge this week (as I am a fan of the Bard class) is to present the character name for an AD&D Bard. You can either tell me the name of a character you’ve actually played, or just make one up. First person clever enough to link this with the previous giveaway will definitely get a bonus goody (if they win)[1].

Although, though no one has yet complained about how long it takes me to get to the post office and post things, it can take a while and if you live abroad then it can take even longer. Sorry about that, but they do get there eventually. Well, so far.

News~ No. I have lazed about playing The Witcher for the last few days. There is vaguely significant news for US Thief-Taker fans, but I’ll give that a post of its own once I’m entirely sure of what’s available and what’s not.

[1] Exciting bonus goody not guaranteed to be exciting. Actually it’s often a postcard. Which is pretty lame, but I’ll make it a pen this time.